“the book of a time where our dreams find rest”
@erratumpress.bsky.social
Rilke to Rodin: “I began to write (when still quite young) and there are already eight or nine books of mine: verses, prose, and a few dramas which, played in Berlin, found only irony in this public which loves the opportunity of showing its disdain for the solitary man.”
Algorithmic loneliness in the early hours. Alone together in a digital world built just for one, where the Other is simulated and optimized for comfort, always present yet never arriving. The rain doesn’t seem to mind.
Always 🌀
it rains and rains and the body is unsteady so I think of Anne Carson because yes the wind could very well dash away our fragile lives but the sea is days away
The Crowded House song from the nineties… as a child I thought it said: everywhere you go always take the other with you.
This Rilke passage from a 1903 letter to Lou has always been dear to me. “Does no one think of the fact that there is a childhood in them that is being lost?”
Water and Dreams, Gaston Bachelard; tr. Edith R. Farrell
